


Ascension

by rozberries



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: A Final Gig Named Death, F/M, Face-Sitting, Female Reader, Lap Sex, Quickies, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rozberries/pseuds/rozberries
Summary: Your lover finally gets his due.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Papa Emeritus IV/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 81





	Ascension

At this rate, you were pretty sure your heart was going to stop.

He'd tried, oh, he'd tried so hard to reassure you. Everything from promising to keep in contact up to the moment he had to go on stage, to fucking you into near unconsciousness before he'd left for the venue that night. But you'd been in the church for a long, long time, and you'd seen the depths of what the higher clergy was capable of. They'd already taken your closest friend, along with his brothers, when they failed some unknowable test; you wouldn't survive it if they took the man you loved.

The ghoul accompanying you had done his best to convince you to stay in the hotel room, but it had only taken half an hour after your lover left for you to yank on your boots and stomp toward the venue. Whatever happened, you were going to be there with him; if that meant returning to Lucifer's bosom earlier than you had planned, fine. Anything if it meant staying by his side.

Security almost didn't let you in, but between your bodyguard's matching appearance to the band ghouls and the hellfire blazing in your eyes, they backed off and you stormed through the back entrance and into the backstage. The screaming of the crowd drowned out any other sound, even that from the people frantically tending to sound systems and speakers. You reached a full run, diving past a tech and picking yourself back up the next second, refusing to acknowledge the pain; you barely noticed the crowd clustered around Nihil's limp body as you took a corner with gusto and skidded to a stop. Your bodyguard ghoul was a second behind you, breathing and swearing quietly in ghoulish.

All your awareness was focused on the curtains as the band filed back in, exhausted from the show. And there he was, in all his glory, cloaked in cerulean and skullpaint and finally crowned as he deserved. All your breath left you in one choked wheeze, and you actually stumbled, hand pressing to your heart as though the pressure could be relieved. His eyes went to you, immediately, and he strode forward, ignoring the stage tech at his side. His arms opened, and he spoke in a gentle whisper, the words meant only for you.

"Shhh. Shhh, _amore._ Come to me."

"Papa...!"

You couldn't breathe for your tears of relief, stumbling forward as the curtains fell. Running toward him, you hit his chest with an audible thud, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could manage.

"Thank Satan," you gasped, "thank Satan, thank Satan...I was so scared. Fuck, I love you."

"And I you, my own, my lovely," Papa Emeritus IV whispered, lightly kissing your forehead. "Now our renaissance begins."

You reached for his robes and yanked him down to kiss you, desperately pressing yourself against him. He returned the kiss with fervor, one of his hands tangling in your hair, and towed you off the stage and toward his dressing room. People parted before the two of you, knowing better then to get in the way, and you reached the door in record time, fumbling for the knob while trying not to break the kiss. You were getting lightheaded, but it didn't matter-all that mattered was him, his lips and tongue and beating heart beneath your palms.

By an act of Lucifer, you got the door open, and you turned the lock behind you as Papa threw off his chasuble and then pinned you to the wall, devouring your mouth. You hitched one of your legs around his waist, grinding against him, and he moaned, gripping you like he never wanted to let go. You buried your hands in his hair, tousling the neat strands, while you two awkwardly shuffled backward until you hit the black leather couch behind you, the both of you toppling to land hard. Immediately Papa's hands were on your shirt, pulling it up and off and pushing your bra down to expose your breasts, too lust drunk to care about undressing properly.

" _Cara mia,_ I thought of you every time I sang tonight," Papa whispered into your ear, cupping your breasts and massaging them, his thumb brushing the nipples over and over; you whined and pushed up into his touch. "I should have brought you along, so you could see it and know. All of it was for you, _cara,_ every word."

"You were incredible," you whispered back, gazing into his mismatched eyes with adoration as well as heat. "I was so worried about you, but fuck, love, you sounded like a fallen angel. I would've cried if I wasn't so damned scared."

"No need to be scared, my love, never again," he soothed, leaning back until he was lying on the couch with you on top of him. You ground against his hard cock, moaning, desperate for him, and he hissed, working your jeans down your hips until your dripping cunt was exposed. Wriggling down the couch until you knelt above his head, he arched up and licked a long stripe through your folds, and you let out a keen loud enough to be heard outside the dressing room.

Someone banged on the door, yelling, "Papa, the techs-"

"They can fucking _wait!_ " Papa snapped, before he yanked you down to sit on his face and began to eat you out in earnest, his skullpaint smearing on your inner thighs. It took everything you had in you not to scream, fingers digging harshly into your own thighs. Every delicious flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and his groans and growls at your taste only served to make you more aroused, the vibrations making your thighs shake with pleasure.

You pressed against his mouth, panting and whining as he mapped out every part of your cunt with his lips and tongue. The fire in your belly grew and grew until it was an inferno, and finally your orgasm came, Papa licking up every drop of your release like he was a starving man. He drew it out until you begged him to stop, high and breathy from overstimulation, and only then he wiggled out from under you, sitting down hard on the couch; you then clambered into his lap, kissing him again and tasting yourself on him. For several long moments you kissed, until Papa's hands went to his pants and unzipped them, his cock bobbing in the air as it was released. You wasted no time in lifting yourself briefly and dropping down on him, taking all of him into your body with one well practiced motion.

Mind glazed from the pleasure, you rode him, bouncing so his thrusts never went too far out of you. This was something sacred, profane, something you wished would never end, so you only let him slip out so far before you took him back in. The music of your and his moans combined into a carnal aria, the sounds definitely audible from the outside, which would have worried you more were you not completely absorbed in your Papa. His cock, deep inside you; his fingers against your clit; his mouth swallowing any sound you could make; no paradise, not even Lucifer's, could match up to this. If the world were to end tomorrow, you would be at peace as long as you were with him, your bodies tangled into one as your souls were joined together in Lucifer's light.

Creeping further and further up that slope again, you gave a full body shudder when Papa dug his still gloved fingers into your back, one hand still at your clit, teasing, circling. "Come for me, my lovely," he ordered softly, and you obeyed, spasming around him as you bit your lip hard enough to bleed. He growled as your walls squeezed him like a vice, his eyes rolling back in his head. A few hard thrusts later, Papa followed you over the precipice, spilling deep inside you and then pressing his sweaty forehead to yours. His paint was smeared horrendously, the fine, detailed design barely visible anymore, but he'd never looked more beautiful to you.

Throat burning from your restrained screams, you whispered "Copia," and buried your face in his neck. A few last exhausted tears escaped you, the stress and the sex and the rapid exhaustion breaking the dam of your self control. He murmured soothing sounds to you as his hands roamed your body, soothing away any pains left. With gentle hands, disturbing you as little as possible, he tugged your bra back into place and eased your pants back up your hips, redressing you with a tenderness that made you weep a little more. Until your crying had stopped, your Papa held you, and only then did he get up to retrieve your shirt and tuck himself back into his trousers. He helped you back into your shirt and then pulled you tight against him, kissing you again chastely, but no less passionately.

"Come on, _topolino,_ " he murmured. "Let's get back to the bus; a hot shower and a bed are calling our names."

You nodded, pulling out of the hug but looping your arm tightly through his. Wherever fate took him, you would follow.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little rushed, but I wanted to be the first person to write a Popia smut fic. Plus I had two lovely friends who deserved a treat. XD


End file.
